All the World is Upside Down
by silentrevyrie
Summary: AU. Andy is still second assistant to the Editor-in-Chief of Runway, but the editor isn't who you'd expect.
1. Chapter 1

All the World is Upside Down

Ch. 1/?

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

A/N: AU, title inspired by the song "President Hillary" by my friend Alice's eponymous band, RIPLEY.

* * *

In the days leading up to Paris Fashion Week, Andy Sachs had been constantly nagged by a sense of impending doom. She couldn't explain why, but from the looks of it, her boss felt the same way. Jacqueline Follet was the Editor-in-Chief of Runway, the leading magazine of the fashion industry, and Andy was her second assistant. It was Andy who would be left to make sure everything in the office ran smoothly while Jacqueline took most of the Runway staff, including her first assistant, Emily, with her to Paris for Fashion Week in just two days.  
"Andee," Jacqueline called over the intercom, her lilting French accent making her pronunciation of the name all her own. Andy hurried into the room to find Jacqueline pacing in front of the windows behind her desk. Without bothering to look up, Jacqueline began listing things for Andy to do, her rapid-fire pace even faster than usual. Andy waited for her boss to finish before looking up from her notepad. She studied Jacqueline for a moment, noting that it seemed as though she had aged ten years since she'd arrived at the office that morning.  
"Ms. Follet, is everything okay?" Andy ventured, knowing she was dangerously close to crossing the line and prying too much into Jacqueline's personal life. Jacqueline was exceedingly kind to her assistants, especially considering the power she held over them, probably because she knew that they held a similar power over her. Emily and Andy knew more about Jacqueline Follet than anyone except Jacqueline herself, not because they wanted to, but because it was their job. Andy had signed a non-disclosure agreement when she was hired (she assumed Emily had as well) but regardless, it was never a good idea to alienate someone who knew so very much about you. Still, what Andy knew about Jacqueline was what Jacqueline provided. Andy never asked questions.  
Jacqueline turned to face Andy and studied her face for a moment before answering. "Je ne sais pas, Andee. I don't know."

It turned out that no, everything was not okay. Nothing about it even remotely resembled "okay." It was the opposite of "okay." It was at 5am exactly one week later that Andy found how just how not okay everything was.  
"Em? What the hell? What's wrong?" Andy mumbled into her Sidekick. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. 5:17. Unless someone was dead, she saw no reason for Emily to call so early. She knew about the time difference. Andy was the first to admit that Emily could be a bitch, but she also knew that Emily valued sleep as greatly as she did.  
"Irv just fired Jacqueline," Emily whispered.  
Andy was sure she'd misheard. "He…what? No, he—Jesus Christ. You're serious."  
"Of course I'm serious," Emily hissed. "Why on earth would I joke about such a thing? Apparently they're bringing Miranda Priestly, the editor of French Runway, in as the new Editor-in-Chief of Runway."  
"Holy shit." Andy was reeling. What did this mean for her job? Surely Miranda would have her own assistants already. Andy didn't particularly relish being a second assistant, but she preferred it to the unemployed alternative.  
"I know. Go to the office. Start backing up everything. Everything. All of Jacqueline's files, address books, what have you. Make sure that she's able to take everything with her. I don't know how long she has before—oh god. Oh my god."  
"Uh—okay. The office. On it." Andy hung up, not wanting to hear anything else Emily had to say in that particular moment. She reached over to rouse Nate to let him know she was leaving and her hand had barely touched the empty side of the bed before she remembered. Nate, her boyfriend, had just moved to Boston to work as a sous chef. They were going to attempt the long distance thing, but without him there, Andy felt like a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders, a weight that she hadn't even realized was there to begin with until it was gone. She had a feeling that her relationship was going to end. Just like everything else in my life, apparently, she thought.  
Rolling out of bed, Andy briefly toyed with the thought of going to the Runway office in her pajamas. The sun hadn't even risen, so it was unlikely anyone else would be there except the security staff. Then she remembered why she was going to the office so early and realized that she likely wouldn't be the only one. Instead, Andy crammed her entire morning routine into twenty-five minutes, vowing to put her minimal makeup on when she got to the office, as so many other Runway employees who didn't work in the outer chamber of Jacqueline's office were able to do. She pulled on a wrap dress that was probably from Marshalls and that she'd probably already worn that month, a pair of ballet flats that were probably from Payless, and grabbed her Birkin bag (a gift from Hermes to Jacqueline, who didn't want it, and one of Andy's few concessions to the fashion world—that bag fit everything she ever needed to carry) before running out the door.

When she arrived at the office, Andy's suspicions that she wouldn't be the only one there were confirmed several times over. It appeared that every Runway employee who wasn't in Paris had heard, probably from their supervisor who was in Paris, about the impending change of regime.  
"Oh god, there you are." Andy whipped around to see Melissa, one of the junior editors in the Art department, coming out of an office. Melissa looked concerned.  
"So you've all heard, too? I came in to start backing up Jacqueline's files before this whole thing turns into more of a clusterfuck than it already is. I guess I'll start cleaning up her office, too," Andy replied as she shrugged off her jacket.  
The look of concern on Melissa's face suddenly and quickly morphed into a look of realization. "You don't know." Melissa bit her lip. "Oh, Jesus. You don't know."  
"Know what?" Andy started wracking her brain for every possible contingency, but nothing could have prepared her for what came next.  
"She's already here. In Jacqueline's office. Miranda Priestly is here."

"Miranda Priestly is here." Despite her journalism degree, Andy was now certain that until that moment, she had been unaware of how much power words could hold. Miranda Priestly was at Runway. Andy stared down the hallway, envisioning what awaited her after she turned the corner down the corridor that led to the Editor-in-Chief's office. She would be able to recognize Miranda on sight; she'd been a guest at Runway's annual museum gala earlier in the year and Andy and Emily had had to memorize the entire visual guest list. Other than that, Andy didn't know much about her new boss, except that it was possible that she wouldn't be Andy's boss after all, not if she'd come with assistants of her own.  
The realness of that possibility was why Andy was surprised, perhaps even pleasantly so, when she approached the outer chamber of the office and saw both assistants' desks empty. Miranda Priestly, looking more perfectly coiffed and put-together than anyone Andy had ever seen, especially at 6:30am, sat behind Jacqueline's desk—her desk—focusing on a pile of paperwork that hadn't been there when Andy had left the office the night before. Wordlessly, Andy hung her jacket and sat behind her own desk, where she began creating CD backups of everything pertaining to Jacqueline's tenure at the magazine. She quickly realized that this was not going to be a quick or easy endeavor; seven years at the helm of a major magazine tends to create quite the paper trail.

Andy was halfway through copying everything Jacqueline had ever had to do with Badgley-Mischka when she heard it.  
"Andrea," came the call from the inner-office. The emphasis was on the second syllable, not the first, making Andy's given name sound almost foreign. "Andrea…"  
It took Andy a moment to realize that it was Miranda who was calling for her, and it seemed she had chosen not to use the intercom. Pushing her chair away from her desk so quickly that she very nearly tipped over, Andy hurried into the office to face the new Editor for the first time.  
"Andrea, there you are," Miranda said, her voice even and almost eerily quiet.  
"Andy," was Andy's immediate response.  
Miranda looked up from what appeared to be personnel files. She stared at Andy, her expression suggesting a mix of exasperation and amusement.  
"Actually, it's Andy," Andy mumbled, certain that she hadn't been misheard and suddenly feeling like a teenager called into the principal's office. She didn't dare look Miranda in the eye; instead she focused on the files. Whose were they? What did the Editor want to know? "I mean, yes, my name is Andrea, but everybody calls me Andy." Slowly, Miranda took off designer reading glasses and looked Andy up and down as if appraising her. Andy shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny and glanced around the room. As far as she could tell, the only change made to the office so far was who was sitting behind the desk.  
"Andrea," Miranda continued after what seemed like an eternity, "Starbucks."  
"S-s-starbucks," Andy stammered. What about Starbucks?  
Miranda rolled her eyes. "No-foam skimmed latte with an extra shot, as hot as they can make it."  
"No-foam skimmed latte, with an extra shot, as hot as they can make it," Andy repeated. "Got it." She stood in front of Miranda's desk, frozen, as the editor looked her up and down. Andy silently thanked every higher power she could think of that she had actually put some effort into her outfit that morning, and she realized that Miranda was still watching her. Andy was used to this, being looked over and scrutinized based on her looks, but the way in which Miranda gazed at her was different. It was more personal, more intent. Andy resisted the urge to squirm as she tried to decide whether or not it was safe to leave.  
"That's all." Miranda re-focused on her paperwork, finally dismissing Andy with a casual wave of her hand. Andy left the inner-office with the feeling that, while she was pretty sure she still had a job, that job was about to get a lot more difficult.

Andy took the time she had while waiting in line at Starbucks to call Emily.  
"You can't possibly be finished yet" was Emily's version of "hello."  
"Nowhere near," Andy replied, "because she's already here, and I'm already on a coffee run."  
"Who's there?" Emily asked. Andy didn't respond. "No. No. You're joking. Miranda isn't already at Runway. She can't be. She was at the Valentino show last night."  
"I guess she took a red-eye," Andy countered, "because this 'no-foam skimmed latte with an extra shot, as hot as they can make it' isn't for me. How's Jacqueline?"  
"Distraught, which is to be expected, I suppose," Emily sighed. "James Holt approached her after the luncheon to offer her a position with Holt International, and I assume she'll accept, but really this whole thing is just a…"  
"…clusterfuck," Andy finished.  
"Exactly." Emily paused. "So I take it this means we're still employed by Runway, then?" She and Andy had shared this unspoken concern.  
"So it seems, Em. So it seems." An awkward silence followed as both women tried to figure out what this meant for their careers.  
"Well, uh, I've been trying to get us on a flight back to New York tonight, but everything seems to be booked, so you may very well be on your own until Sunday," Emily finally said.  
"Sure, no problem," Andy chirped, her tone not betraying the fact that she dreaded being alone in the office with their new boss. "Just…be ready when you come back. I don't know what we're dealing with." As if on cue, the barista called Andy's name as he held up the finished latte. Andy snatched it out of his hand and hurried out the door. "Okay, I'm going back Runway. Keep me updated."  
"Same to you," Emily said, her tone suddenly hushed. "Good luck." As she dropped her Sidekick back into her purse while hurrying across the street back to the Elias-Clarke building, Andy was grateful for Emily's support. God knew she'd need it.


	2. Chapter 2

All the World is Upside Down

Ch. 2/?

Disclaimer: I own nothing, especially the dialogue you recognize.

A/N: Thank you to those who have favorited, followed, and reviewed this fic so far! Please continue to let me know what you think; this is my first real attempt at an AU that is so closely tied to the source material, if that makes any sense.

* * *

As soon as she arrived back at her desk on Runway's floor of the Elias-Clarke building, Andy swiftly discarded her coat and bag and took a step towards what was now Miranda's office before halting in her tracks. How was she supposed to enter the office? Should she announce herself? Should she say something? Knock on the door? Miranda was still seated behind the desk, her MacBook open on top of the papers scattered across the glass top, and she had yet to notice Andy's presence.

"Um, Ms. Priestly?" Andy mumbled as she lightly knocked on the door. Miranda's head snapped up, and she looked almost indignant at the interruption. Andy took that as her cue to move towards the desk, Starbucks in hand. She handed it to Miranda, who sipped it immediately. Andy winced involuntarily, which would've been her own reaction to a beverage so hot. Miranda seemed unfazed.  
"Miranda," Miranda said, having already refocused on whatever she'd been working on.  
"I'm sorry?" Andy replied, unsure as to why her new boss was referring to herself in the third person.  
"You will call me Miranda," Miranda continued. "Not Ms. Priestly. Miranda. Now, call IT. I need a company phone—nothing too bulky—with a US number and a _Runway_ email address to replace mine from _French Runway_. That's all." She glanced up at Andy, who shifted uncomfortably as Miranda seemed to appraise her outfit once again. When Miranda's attention shifted back to her computer screen, it was all Andy could do not to run back to her own desk. Andy knew for a fact she was the only person at_ Runway_ who didn't care about fashion; she'd been sent by a temp agency to fill the second assistant position until Elias-Clarke HR had found a suitable candidate, but Jacqueline had been so impressed by Andy's ability to learn quickly and to adapt that after three weeks, she'd sent Andy to HR to permanently fill the position. Jacqueline hadn't cared what Andy wore as long as she was doing her job correctly, but Andy had a feeling that Miranda wasn't going to be so flexible.

As Andy was hanging her coat, she heard the phone on her desk ring. Jacqueline had always insisted that the phone ring no more than once before being answered and Andy couldn't imagine that Miranda would feel any differently.  
"Jacqueline Foll—erm, Miranda Priestly's office," Andy fumbled.  
"So it's true, then? Miranda is already there?" The voice on the other line was familiar to Andy, but she was too focused on getting back to copying Jacqueline's files to take the time to place it.  
"Any questions regarding personnel at Elias-Clarke should be directed to Human Resources. Their department extension is 5314," Andy countered. She wasn't in the mood to deal with what was likely a press inquiry. Andy quickly hung up the phone, only to have it ring again immediately.  
"Extension 5314," Andy repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  
"Andy, it's me," the voice, who Andy suddenly recognized as Nigel, replied. "Of course I've heard through the grapevine that Miranda is already there, but I thought I'd check in on you, seeing as you're right there in the lion's den."  
Andy and Nigel weren't friends—truth be told, Andy had no friends at work—but once Andy had become a permanent _Runway_ staffer, Nigel had taken the time to get to know her. He'd even brought her a pair of designer slingbacks one Monday morning, which Andy had graciously thanked him for and then shoved them in the back of a desk drawer, because she didn't intend to wear them. Now that she remembered that they were there, though, she would have to put them on before she went into Miranda's office again. Andy knew that the slingbacks couldn't possibly save her outfit, but she figured they'd at least help a tiny bit with Miranda's obvious disdain for her clothing. Andy wasn't sure why she cared so much what Miranda thought about how she dressed, but knowing that her new boss clearly disliked what she was wearing bothered her.  
"It's been quiet," Andy sighed as she moved on to copying the Chanel portion of Jacqueline's files. "Like, weirdly quiet. I got here at 6:30 and Miranda was already here. At 9:00 she sent me to Starbucks, and when I got back she asked me to get a few things done for her with IT. And that's it." Andy started typing an email to the head of the IT department as she recapped her day for Nigel. They'd always been better about replying to email than about answering the phone, something Andy found mildly amusing.  
"She's never been a woman of many words," Nigel mused.  
"How do you know?" Andy asked.  
"She was me before I was me," Nigel said. "Didn't you know? She was the fashion director at _Runway_ before she got moved to _French Runway_. I've known her for twent—uh, a lot of years. I still can't believe she didn't tell me about this!"  
Andy hadn't any idea that Miranda had previously worked at _Runway_, let alone that she had worked directly with Nigel. "In that case, what can you tell me about her? I'd like to keep my job and she doesn't seem like she has much patience for a learning curve."  
"When she wants something done, she wants it done yesterday," Nigel started. "That's the most important thing. Be fast, be efficient, and don't ask her questions—she hates that. If you absolutely can't figure something out yourself, ask me if necessary, but never ask her. What else? This industry loves her—they always have. Dropping her name opens doors that would otherwise be deadbolted, even more than Jacqueline's ever did. Okay, I've gotta run. The McQueen show is about to start. Just wanted to make sure you were still alive. I'll check in with you later tonight, okay?"  
"Thanks, Nigel. You're the best," Andy smiled.  
"Au revoir!" Andy smirked at the phone. It seemed Paris was going to Nigel's head.

No sooner had Andy finished with Jacqueline's Donna Karan file than someone from IT showed up with a box, which he promptly dropped on Andy's desk. "Her cell phone is in there. It's all activated and everything. And that," he said, pointing to a post-it-note on the box, "is her new phone number and her email address with temporary password, which she'll need to change. Call me if you need anything else. Or just, you know, call me." He winked at her and left. Fortunately, Andy didn't have any questions, because she had no desire to call him for anything. She'd met this particular IT guy, whose name she was pretty sure was Jared, on her first day at _Runway_, when he'd given her her company-issue Sidekick and then insisted on making a test call from his own cell phone. Andy did her best to avoid him. Before she took the phone in to Miranda, Andy copied down the phone number and the email address and immediately ordered business cards made before Miranda even had to ask.

Andy opened the box and stuck the post-it to the phone, so as to minimize the number of things Miranda would have to do herself. She stood, and then remembered the slingbacks that were still in the back of the bottom drawer of her desk and quickly dug them out. After Andy switched shoes, she walked carefully into the office, where Miranda was still focused on the task at hand, before trying to get the editor's attention.

"Miranda?" Andy started. Miranda looked up. "Uh, I have your phone. And your new email address. You'll have to change the temporary password but everything is all set up."

"Good," Miranda nodded, motioning for Andy to hand her the box. "And I'll need b-"

"Business cards?" Andy interrupted. "Already ordered." Miranda looked taken aback, if only for a fraction of a second, before her expression morphed into something that could only be described as an almost-approving almost-smile.

"That's all." Andy had noticed a trend and knew this was her cue to leave. On her way out, she glanced at the reflection in the office door and realized that Miranda was watching her leave. The expression on Miranda's face, if Andy was reading the reflection correctly, wasn't one of "Is she out of my office yet?" so much as something almost resembling appreciation for the sight in front of her—and the only thing in front of her was Andy's behind. Now it was Andy's turn to be taken aback. Obviously she was interpreting it wrong—it was only a reflection, after all, and not Miranda's actual face.

Andy sat back down at her desk just in time for Miranda to come sweeping out of her office, closing the doors behind her. Before she even realized what she was doing, Andy rushed to stand as Miranda walked through the room. She'd never done that when Jacqueline—or anyone else, for that matter—came through the office. It seemed a reaction fit for royalty, or perhaps the President or someone else in a similar position of power, and Andy now realized that Miranda exuded the confidence, poise, and elegance of a world leader, not the editor of a fashion magazine. It was in the way she carried herself, how she stood tall with her shoulders back and made herself seem much more imposing than her natural height, which Andy judged to be about 5'6" against her own 5'8", would normally suggest.  
Realizing she was now standing alone in the antechamber, Andy quickly sat back down and glared at her computer screen. She had so many more of Jacqueline's files to copy, and, though she still felt incredible loyalty to the former editor, Andy lacked the motivation to continue what felt like a pointless task. Suddenly, inspiration struck and she knew exactly how to get out of having to finish all those file transfers.  
"Hi, Jared?" she murmured into the phone. One phone call to IT was all it was going to take. "It's Andy. You know, Jac—Miranda's assistant? Yeah, no, I'm doing well. It's just…I have all of these files that I need to copy to send over to Jacqueline and I'm just doing it individually and I feel like there has to be some other way—Oh, you will? Great! I'll be here all day. Oh, five minutes? Thank you!"

Jared had just arrived behind Andy's desk and was leaning over her shoulder, focused more on her cleavage than on her computer screen, when Miranda came back. She stopped momentarily in front of Andy's desk and raised an eyebrow at the scene in front of her before continuing back into her office. She flung the doors open, but not all the way. When Andy glanced up, she noticed that the angle at which the door was open made it easy to see Miranda behind her own desk in the reflection, which meant that Miranda could also see her. And not only could Miranda definitely see her, Miranda was definitely watching her.  
"Andrea," Miranda called. Andy hastily pushed her chair away from her desk, almost knocking over Jared in the process.

"You've got this under control, right? I've got to—she's—I—thanks!" Andy skirted around Jared, whose attention was finally on the computer task, and hurried into Miranda's office. Miranda said nothing and instead stared at Andy, who was relatively certain that her boss could see into her soul.  
"Yes, Miranda?" Andy ventured, unsure of why she'd been called into the office.  
"I need ten or fifteen skirts from Calvin Klein," Miranda stated. Andy had no idea which skirts Miranda meant and almost asked her to be more specific, before remembering Nigel's advice about not asking questions. She'd have to figure it out.  
"And make sure we still have Pier 59 for 8am on Monday," Miranda continued. "Remind Jocelyn that I need to see a few of those satchels that Marc is doing in the pony. And then tell Simone that I'll take Jackie if Maggie isn't available. Did Demarchelier confirm?"  
Andy was dumbstruck. The only names she recognized from Miranda's directive were Jocelyn, who was still in Paris, Marc, who was probably Marc Jacobs, and Demarchelier. "D—did d—Demarchelier confirm?" Andy stuttered.  
"Demarchelier. Did he—get him on the phone," Miranda said, looking annoyed. Andy turned and quickly retreated to her desk, where Jared was waiting for her.  
"So, d'you think we could, like, hang out sometime?" Jared asked as he leaned against the wall, a sly grin plastered across his face.  
Andy ignored him as she punched numbers into her phone. "I have Miranda Priestly's office—good," she said into the phone.  
"I have Patrick!" she yelled to Miranda. She watched as the extension light on her phone turned green and hung up as soon as she was sure Miranda had taken the call. Now, if only she knew who Simone, Jackie, and Maggie were. Andy may not have known that, but she did know one thing for certain: working for Miranda Priestly was going to be a challenge in every sense of the word.


End file.
